The Chemistry Lab is Mightier than the Wand
by Palladias
Summary: OOTP Spoilers. Voldemort is desperate to get Harry. The way to do that is to capture the weakest of Harry's friends in some new sceme. He targets the weak mudblood. He can take her wand, but she has science up her sleeve. ONHOLD
1. Preview

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. Or is it?  
  
Preview  
  
British Voice Over: In the summer preceding Harry Potter's sixth year at Hogwarts, Voldemort returned.  
  
(Shots of arcing green lights. People fall. Above it all floats the Dark Mark.)  
  
VO: Voldemort had one prime objective: The destruction of Harry Potter.  
  
(Shot of Harry sleeping, still clutching wand.)  
  
VO: The Dark Lord found Harry to be far too well protected. He would have to be lured out with some form of bait.  
  
(Shot of Sirius falling through veil.)  
  
VO: It was time for a new attempt. One target stood above the rest.  
  
(Shot of Hermione fallen asleep while reading Hogwarts, A History)  
  
VO: The trap was cunningly set. Potter and perhaps even Dumbledore would rush to her rescue.  
  
(Blue light flashes as Narcissa Malfoy runs up an aisle in Flourish and Blotts. She knocks into Lupin then Disapparates.)  
  
VO: Muggleborn, she couldn't hope to compete with the Dark Lord's Death Eater army.  
  
(Shot of a circle of masked and hooded wizards surrounding Hermione's prone body.)  
  
VO: What could one sixth year girl who had grown up with a Muggle education do against full-grown wizards who hadn't been distracted by that sort of rubbish?  
  
(Draco's jaw drops as from above he sees Hermione surrounded by six Death Eaters fight off four of them. Flashes of light shoot back and forth. One flash of white fills the screen and is seen to come from holes pricked in a piece of parchment in Hermione's handwriting that Lupin regards in wonder. Hermione stands in the rain in front of number twelve Grimmauld Place and walks slowly in.)  
  
VO: One hell of a lot, it would seem!  
  
(A large castle on an island erupts in flame in a huge explosion. The smoke spells out the title "The Chem Lab is Mightier than the Wand") 


	2. Parting is Sorrow

Disclaimer: I own everything if I am J. K. Rowling. (If J, then O) If I am busy, I don't write fanfic. (If B, then ~F) J. K. Rowling is busy. (If J, then B) J. K. Rowling doesn't write fanfic. (If J, then ~F {chain rule}) I write fanfic. (F) I am not J. K. Rowling. {Modus Tollens} I don't own everything {Modus Ponens}  
  
Chapter One - Parting is such sweet Sorrow  
  
The Hogwarts Express train ride, at the end of Hermione's fifth year, passed in a blur. It had been a very difficult year for all of them. She wouldn't have admitted it to Harry or especially to Ron, who'd laugh, but Hermione was glad to be going home. She loved Hogwarts, but she'd been seeing her parents less and less each year. Hermione hadn't even spent Christmas with them. She had only been their a few days when Ron's father was attacked. She had to go to Grimmauld Place. Her summer had even been cut short when Professor McGonagall had picked her up.  
  
Headmaster Dumbledore only gave her two weeks with her mum and dad. McGonagall was sent by soon after Hogwarts let out. Hermione was at the library when she arrived. The latest Jasper Fforde novel had come out. By the time she returned home, McGonagall had spoken to her parents and convinced them Hermione had to leave. It was for her own protection, McGonagall explained.  
  
Hermione had really missed them, and needed to talk to them. Dumbledore had asked the DA to not discus the events in the Department of Mysteries in case the owls were intercepted. She wanted their advice on how to handle these sorts of situations and also wanted them to comfort her. She still felt guilty about her own performance there. Her sloppy wandwork had gotten Neville's wand and nose broken. She should have been more attentive to Dolohov. A powerful Death Eater doesn't lose his powers just by being silenced. She couldn't help but think if she'd been there, one more wand could have turned the tide. Sirius Black might still be alive. At any rate, they might have kept the prophecy. She wanted her mom, childish as it may sound, to tell her it would be all right.  
  
The train stopped jarringly. Hermione's hand flew to her wand instantly. She had been doing exercises to bring up her reaction time. When she got home, she would be the only one able to do magic in the house. Reasonable Restriction of Underage Wizardry be damned. If it was get expelled from Hogwarts or save her parents, Hermione knew what her choice would be. It was a good thing she had always been a light sleeper.  
  
She'd been having nightmares since the Department of Mysteries. They'd start out simply. Hermione would leave the house for a short time and come back to find the Dark Mark hovering malevolently, a green scar in the sky. She'd run as fast as she could, her mom and dad screams echoing in her ears. By the time she got in, it was always too late. Dolohov and Malfoy would be standing over their bodies, laughing. Then they'd turn their wands on her. She kept waking up, her fist in her mouth to keep from screaming. At least Hermione knew she'd be ready if they came at night. The night before Hogwarts ended, Pavarti got up past one in the morning to use the facilities. She didn't make it to the door before Hermione had put the full body bind on her, instinctively.  
  
There was no attack on the train, however. The students hurried through the barrier. Hermione heard the Weasley family and various others faintly in the back of her head, but the moment she saw her parents she dashed forward, cutting off Mr. Weasley's query, "So what is this. internat, is that what it's called?" Her mother and father were both crying almost as hard as she as they hugged. Her parents only let go when there was a loud crash. Harry's cousin, Dudley had been edging away from some of the Order, which included Tonks, Moody, and Lupin, when he tripped over her hastily abandoned luggage. Moody, it appeared had been menacing the Dursleys. Harry's aunt seemed about to faint. Mr. Weasley moved forward now, "Even if you don't let Harry use the fellytone."  
  
"Telephone," Hermione sighed. Some things never change. The Dursleys left in short order after that. "Goodbye, Harry," Ron and Hermione called. She turned back to her parents, but they weren't there. The Order, the Weasleys, and Hermione were the only ones left. "Professor Lupin," She asked quietly, trying not to panic, "Where did my mum and dad go? They were here a moment ago and they've vanished. Are they waiting at the car or." she trailed off nervously.  
  
"Hermione, let me explain," Lupin said calmly. "You know Voldemort is likely to target those close to Harry. As we've all discovered they can serve as bait in a trap quite. quite easily," His cool demeanor slipped for a moment and he wiped his eyes quickly on his ragged sleeves. He had been Sirius's closest friend, after all.  
  
"What Remus is saying," Moody interjected in his gruff voice, "Is that as Potter's friend and a muggleborn you offer a tempting target to Voldemort or to any Death Eater seeking recognition. We need you to spend the summer back at Headquarters for protection, same as Ronald over there." He pointed over at Ron who tried to look as though he hadn't been eavesdropping. "We can keep you safe, but that leaves the question of your parents. You'd probably try to save them if Voldemort got them, which leaves us in the same position. The moment one of Harry's friends." Moody's eyebrows contracted suddenly. "You and Potter aren't. uh. involved in any way are you?" Ron's head shot up as he abandoned any pretense of inattention. "Mad-Eye!" hissed Tonks angrily. "Don't ask her that."  
  
"It's a matter of security, Nymphadora," Moody responded, swiveling his magical eye to speak to her. "Well, are you or aren't you, Granger?"  
  
"We're just friends, Professor. But where are my parents?" Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ron grin foolishly. "Prat. It wasn't that funny," she thought.  
  
"What this barmy, meddling dingbat is trying to say and utterly failing at," cut in Tonks quietly, "is that we've used the Fidelius Charm to protect your parents. We had them move to a new home."  
  
"Who's the Secret Keeper? There are a lot of things that could go wrong with that charm." She could see Ron handing Fred and George a few Knuts for an Extendable Ear.  
  
"Don't worry, Hermione. It's all taken care of. We got one of the professors to do it. It would have been McGonagall but we didn't know if she'd be all right and couldn't wait that long. Don't worry; we got an excellent Legilimens instead. You'll have to give him your letters and he'll make sure you aren't revealing too much in case they're intercepted," Tonks explained.  
  
Mrs. Weasley had noticed Ron with the Extendable Ear and seemed to be hitting him with it. "It's Professor Snape, isn't it," Hermione said dully. "Every letter I write to her parents gets censored by Snape," her voice started to rise shrilly. "You know how that's going to turn out; some sort of a Catch-22 scenario. I'll be lucky if the word 'the' gets through! Worse, he'll change the letters!"  
  
"It will be all right, Hermione," said Mrs. Weasley dragging Ron over by the ear. Apparently she had been displeased about Ron's little bargain with the twins. "You'll stay with us again. I'm sure you'll enjoy it. There will be plenty to do. We still have to finish cleaning the house; you'll be so busy, you won't have time to worry."  
  
Yeah, sure. Hermione had spent nearly the whole of last summer with the Weasleys. Fred and George kept pulling pranks the moment she turned her back, and Ginny wanted to discuss the contents of the latest issue of TeenWitch endlessly. (A few of their more informative articles included: "Legal Love Spells", "Make-up Magic", and "Accio Yourself a Boyfriend.") Arthur and Molly Weasley were busy with the Order, of course, so were Bill and Charlie. Don't bother to bring up Ron. He spent the whole summer practicing on that broom of his and writing sappy love poems. (Ron's handwriting is bad enough that the object of his affection will remain anonymous.) The only member of the Weasley clan she had anything in common with was Percy. Enough said.  
  
"Hermione," Lupin said quietly, "your parents did leave something for you." He turned and pulled forward two suitcases. "These are some of your favorites, they said. Your mom and dad said you'd like this one especially." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a dilapidated copy of Ender's Shadow. "I can't make any promises, Hermione, but if people from the Order have any extra time, we can send someone with you to some of the museums or the libraries. We can try to arrange a meeting with you and your parents, but don't get your hopes up. We have to go now."  
  
Hermione managed to hold her tears till she was back in Grimmauld Place and understood, for the first time, why Sirius had been driven to leave. 


	3. All the King's Owls and All the King's P...

Disclaimer: Among the things I don't own: Harry Potter, cell phones, Jasper Fforde, and foreshadowing  
  
Chapter Two - All the King's Owls and All the King's Phones  
  
Hermione slept less than ever after she arrived at Grimmauld Place. Moody's explanation of the situation had, if anything, only heightened her anxiety. She was getting six hours of sleep, tops. She took to sitting in the stairwell by the entrance and reading by moonlight. She had already reread Ender's Shadow twice, and she had gone through half the books her parents had sent. She was on the new Jasper Fforde book, Lost in a Good Book. It was oddly appropriate, she mused, given her behavior of late.  
  
The front door opened suddenly. Hermione quickly ducked behind a banister. The odds were against the shadowy figure in the doorway being a Death Eater, but it wouldn't hurt to be careful. Worse, it might be Mrs. Weasley. Hermione understood Ron's fear of his mother after being treated to one of her lectures. A bit hypocritical of Mrs. Weasley to speak about the importance of sleep, when her screaming at Hermione woke the entire house. Professor Snape, who'd been staying the night, was particularly irritated. She had no desire to repeat the experience, especially as Snape was staying again.  
  
The figure stepped into the hall and Hermione saw to her horror Kingsley Shacklebolt was standing holding Emmeline Vance's body. Lupin emerged from his room at the noise and stood openmouthed in horror. "Is she.?"  
  
"Yes. It was an ambush. We sent you an owl once we realized, but the reinforcements must not have arrived in time."  
  
"Kingsley, we never got an owl. It must have been intercepted somehow. I'm so sorry. What happened?"  
  
"We came to a Death Eater meeting, that's what we thought anyway," Kingsley began bitterly. "It was a trap, Remus. There were dozens waiting. They must have had Death Eaters in the sky, waiting to shoot Greta down. This is terrible. This is the second owl we've lost in a month. Dumbledore must have a better way to communicate!"  
  
"He's trying. The Death Eaters are working from the same data we are. We need something new. We need something that they can't trace. We need."  
  
"Cell phones," Hermione cut in. The two men turned, wands out. Hermione moved out of the shadows with her hands up. "What you need are cell phones. They won't work at Hogwarts, but the Death Eaters won't catch on. I doubt Lord Voldemort's followers are computer hackers."  
  
"Granger, you don't know what's going on. You ought to be in bed. Dumbledore will sort something out. Now run along and." Lupin held up his hand to cut Kingsley off. "What are you suggesting, Hermione. What are these 'cell phones'?"  
  
"Right, I've explained phones already, Professor. A cell phone is a miniature, portable telephone. If all the Order members had them, you could call the others fast. The Death Eaters couldn't stop the signal. They're hardly perfect, so you would still send owls." She looked at Kingsley's confused face and Lupin's look of admiration?  
  
"What's going on out there?" Molly Weasley had awoken.  
  
"Right," Hermione said quickly. "I was on my way to bed." She hurried quietly along the corridor.  
  
Lupin turned back to Kingsley. "Tell Tonks to ask her father to see about finding some of those phones." 


	4. To Catch a Thief, Send a Thief

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Least of all Immanuel Kant, unfortunately.  
  
Chapter Three - To Catch a Thief, Send a Thief  
  
It had been two weeks now, and they had passed like two years. Hermione spent much of her time up in the room she and Ginny shared reading and crying. "She's become a regular Cho Chang, she has," Ron remarked to Harry only half joking. Harry, still sore about Cho, caustically remarked, "At least I had a chance with Cho, not like you and Hermio. . . ." They showed up at breakfast sporting several bruises that no one cared to comment on.  
  
Tensions were running high at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. The general mood wasn't helped at all by Fred and George who appointed themselves official mischief-makers. No one seemed too amused with the cheerleader chairs heard to say, "Nice job sitting down, eh? No one picks up a plate like you do! Standing up? You know best!" Hermione had been particularly irritated at their constant attempts to get her out of her room. She got her revenge with Tonks's help. Using one of her obscure spellbooks, she found a variant on the Midas Touch. Fred and George were dismayed to find themselves surrounded by tomes of muggle philosophers' treatises on ethics. Hermione made them wait till they had a full set of Kant before she told them how to take the spell off. (She relented after they spent two straight hours reading the heavy volumes at the top of their lungs with occasional promises they were taking it to heart.)  
  
"Really creative, Harry," remarked Fred hoarsely the following day. "Pretty immoral according to most of those blokes though. Hey, George! Bet we could find a philosopher who says it's ethical to put the same sort of spell on her. We wouldn't give her philosophy books though," he added wickedly. The two headed of to the library, glowing with excitement. Harry related this tale to Hermione who smiled for the first time since she arrived in Grimmauld Place.  
  
It was a relief to everyone when Lupin announced he would be taking them to Diagon Alley the following day. He had already sent his security plan to Dumbledore by owl post and had received approval. Everyone really needed to get out of the house.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Narcissa Malfoy unwrapped her package slowly. The Dark Lord had seen fit to make her the instrument of Potter's destruction. Information taken from Lupin's owl had given them the time, but the plans had already been ready. She opened the box and lifted out her weapon. "Who would have thought it?" she mused. "It's such a simple trick, and she has no possible defense." She went over the plan once more in her head, laid out her invisibility cloak then put it away. She didn't need it. Tomorrow the Dark Lord would begin his rise. The weapon sat on the table next to her bed, eleven inches by seven inches by three inches. 


	5. To Catch a Bookworm

Author's Note: Thank you for all the reviews. Sorry for all delays. I've been in a production of Noises Off, which I heartily recommend. Peace, love and CTY!  
  
Disclaimer: Not only do I not own the characters, I don't own my soul. I sold it for my very own puffskein.  
  
Chapter Four - To Catch a Bookworm. . .  
  
Narcissa Malfoy paced inside Flourish and Blotts and checked her watch. According to the intercepted owl, Potter and company should already be here. They were late by one half of an hour. She had known Remus Lupin at school; he was always punctual to a fault. What strange crisis must be keeping him?  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
"If you don't all get down here in five minutes we're leaving without you! George. . . or Fred, I can't tell you apart, but I'm not blind,. Stop trying to hex that stair. Harry, watch out! Oh god."  
  
Harry Potter, the Boy who was Terminally Accident-Prone, had stepped right into Fred and George's jinx and was now the Boy with a Strange Assortment of Feathers and Scales. Lupin managed to fix it as Fred and George roared with laughter. "Hermione, Ginny, Ron, GET DOWN HERE! I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT'S KEEPING YOU, BUT IF I HAVE TO COME UP AND GET YOU THERE HAD BETTER BE A CONTIGENT OF DEATH EATERS KEEPING YOU UP THERE!! Well, not literally, of course."  
  
Hermione skittered down the stairs with a half-full knapsack. Ron followed quickly. "Hermione, what do you have all those books for, anyway?" Ron asked, bemused.  
  
"I need something to do while you, Harry, and Ginny drool over broomsticks," she snapped tetchily. "Where is Ginny? GINNY, WE'RE ALL WAITING FOR YOU!"  
  
"Down in a minute, I can't find my diary."  
  
Ron blanched, "Diary, Ginny?"  
  
"Not that one, Ron, you prat! I bought a new one. FRED AND GEORGE, DID YOU TAKE IT?"  
  
"Nope. We thought about it but we read the first few pages and it was really dull, monotonous, dreary. . ."  
  
"And tedious," Fred added gleefully.  
  
Ginny poked her head round the stair, horrified, "You read my diary, and you thought it was dull!"  
  
"And tedious," Fred added helpfully.  
  
"Honestly, Ginny it does seem to follow a bit of a pattern. 'Dear Diary, I spent the day moping about dreaming of Harry.' I will admit, however, your poetry has improved since your first year."  
  
"I have absolutely no poetry in my diary. You're bluffing."  
  
"Ginny, please deal with it later. We're late enough as it is."  
  
"Fine." Ginny hurried downstairs, making sure to hop over the jinxed step.  
  
"Right, everyone. We'll use floo powder. Flourish and Blotts first. Everyone ready? What now Hermione?"  
  
"I ripped my hem on the fireplace. Ron, you should do something about this little death trap here!"  
  
"It's not a death trap, just a bit of twisted metal!"  
  
"We'll fix it when we come back. Just use a safety pin."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The entire group got through ten minutes later. Narcissa watched the group enter through the door. She felt a temporary misgiving as Remus led the group to the piles of books for students. The four children got their required books. If they didn't explore the rest of the store the plan would be in vain, and the Dark Lord would not be pleased. It was strange that this plan, like so many of her master's plans depended on such minute details. Perhaps this was why so many failed. She brought her mind back to the issue at hand; the Dark Lord did not like those who questioned his plans. Then the brown haired girl led them over to the rest of the store. Just as her Master predicted, the girl couldn't resist the books. She put her weapon in its proper place and pressed herself up against the back of the bookshelf where she could not be seen.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Hermione, we really ought to be going. This has to be your last row. Just take one last look and then we'll go," Lupin said. Hermione led the others a little farther up the row as he paused to take a look at Hairy Snout, Human Heart.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Narcissa waited till the four children had turned their backs before murmuring a quick "Portus." The weapon glowed blue. Narcissa hurried behind them.  
  
5 seconds...  
  
Hermione turned as she thought she saw a bit of light behind her. She scanned the shelf for a moment and saw it. "Look at this," she murmured, "Hogwarts, A History, Volume II."  
  
4 seconds...  
  
Lupin felt someone shove him as she ran up the row. He whipped out his wand and saw a flash of pale blonde hair. "Narcissa" he thought as he ran after her.  
  
3 seconds...  
  
Lupin ran behind her. In a moment he would try to curse her. Narcissa didn't care if she was caught. She had accomplished her job. Her Master would protect her. Still, she'd prefer freedom. "Too late, Remus," she whispered as she Disapparated.  
  
2 seconds...  
  
Lupin whirled around to the children. "Harry, watch out!"  
  
1...  
  
Hermione began to open the book lovingly. It was a beautiful book with a red leather cover, cream coloured parchment, and the title embossed in gold. "Just look at this." She felt a jerk behind her navel as Hogwarts, A History, Volume II pulled her forward. As she rushed through a blaze of colour and wind, she couldn't help but admit, you could call Voldemort evil, deranged, and an egomaniac, but you couldn't call him unoriginal. 


	6. Lost in a Good Book

  
Author's Note: Beware the Ides of March, unauthorized Portkeys, blatant foreshadowing, strategically placed cacti, and practise CONSTANT VIGILANCE!   
  


**Lost in a Good Book**

  
  
It's said that good friends take on each other's attributes. In the case of Harry, Ron, and Hermione this was absolutely true. Before she had known the two boys, Hermione would never have spent her summers being kidnapped by diabolical agents of ambitious evil overlords, or, depending how you saw it, ambitious agents of diabolical evil overlords. Unfortunately, although proximity to the boys provoked these situations, they did little to remedy them. For the most part, Harry seemed to save his neck out of sheer luck. She would not even escape with the portkey, for it turned to ash in her hand. Still, Hermione had read enough action/adventure books to understand what was expected of her. When everything stopped moving, she hit the ground running. She managed to duck several curses and fired off some in return. She rolled behind a handy piece of furniture and prepared to continue defending herself.   
  
That was the plan anyway. The first flaw she encountered was the fundamental difficulty of running if you land flat on your back. She dealt with that easily enough but the most important flaw was not apparent until she had clumsily rolled behind a glockenspiel. No one was attacking her simply because she was alone in the room. She stood up, feeling a little silly after all her evasive action. She was in an octagonal room with a high balcony running around near the roof. It appeared to be a storage room for odds and ends of all this place's residents. The glockenspiel she had hid behind showed signs of heavy use. The only thing the room lacked was Death Eaters.   
  
It was all very clear when Hermione thought it through. The portkey had been enchanted during their visit the to bookstore. Because it was not known when the group would arrive at the bookstore, it was not known when she would arrive in the room. People would be arriving soon after all the noise she had made. She would have only a few seconds to prepare for the arrival of goodness knew how many Death Eaters. She had only one real option if she wanted to get out of her situation alive. She broke her wand's casing deliberately, hoping she had caused a minimum of damage to her dragon heartstring core. She hurriedly pushed the wand as far as she could into the glockenspiel.   
  
Logically, she knew she had made the right choice. If Voldemort had gone to such lengths to kidnap her specifically with the ersatz book, the purpose of the plan was unlikely to be her death. Even if it were, avada kedavra was unblockable with a wand. If she had been caught to catch Harry in a trap, however, she might be able to recover her wand. Still, it hurt to give it up.   
  
She had not acted a moment too soon for three Death Eaters came streaming in through the doors. She was momentarily mildly insulted she only merited the attention of three henchmen. She threw her hands in the air, fingers spread. There was no point in getting hit with any more curses than she needed. The first Death Eater pulled off his hood triumphantly, sneering down the length of his wand, and Hermione felt a shiver of doubt as she met the cold smile of Draco Malfoy.   
  


  
  
Hermione was awoken by the sound of Peter Pettigrew's silver hand clanking against the clasp of her knapsack. She was lying on the floor of a tower bathroom. There was a small window on the wall opposite her. She could see little but trees and suddenly a large spider darted between the branches. She noted its five furry legs and gasped.   
  
At the sound of her indrawn breath, Pettigrew left off his mutter of, "..I have to search for the wand just because Malfoy's brat couldn't find it with his summoning charm.. You're up!"   
  
"Evidently," Hermione replied tersely. She stood up and brushed the dirt off of her clothes. Everything she had seemed to be in place. She even still had her safety pin holding together the rip by her hemline. Pettigrew, who had been watching her inspect herself smiled nastily.   
  
"It's not there," he said.   
  
"What isn't where?"   
  
"Your wand. You haven't got your wand, have you?"   
  
"Hardly. I had put it in my other bag of books before you kidnapped me," replied Hermione smoothly.   
  
Peter's eyes widened, "You had another bag of those things? You had about twenty in the bag you had with you." He noticed Hermione fiddling with the safety pin. "What's that," he asked as he drew his wand nervously.   
  
"A safety pin. It holds cut garments together. Look, it's just a pointed bit of wire."   
  
"Hand it over. You're not allowed to have access to any sharp objects. I'm supposed to be checking your possessions."   
  
"Are you telling me Voldemort's power is so tenuous he is worried I might overpower his Death Eaters with a safety pin?"   
  
Pettigrew flinched at the Dark Lord's name but brightened with his next statement, "The Dark Lord believes you might find your situation so dreadful you would try to take your own life to escape him."   
  
"Then why am I in a room with both a window and a mirror; both of which I could smash and slit my wrists with?"   
  
Peter looked around in panic, ran to the window, and vanished the glass. He turned to give the mirror the same treatment, but was cut off by Hermione's laugh. The worry about suicide meant she was being held with a purpose and was unlikely to be killed in a fit of pique.   
  
"Now I could jump out the window and fall to my doom."   
  
Peter restored the glass and transfigured it hurriedly to bricks. His transfiguration was not very good. Hermione could see through several of the bricks and others appeared delicate enough to be smashed.   
  
"Now I can bash my brains out against the brick wall."   
  
She would have continued this game for some time longer but a voice rang out, "Let the mudblood keep her toy, Wormtail. We will put her safety under the duties of a competent Death Eater since one mudblood seems too powerful for you. Bring her down to the main dungeon. We are all waiting."   
  


  
  
Voldemort was waiting with a contingent of Death Eaters in what appeared to be the main dungeon. The walls were solid stone and chains were scattered across the ground. The only thing missing was bloodstains; Hermione chalked them up to the fact Voldemort could not have been using this place as a hideout for long. The walls were inscribed with the markings of former prisoners: Down with McCliverts, MacBoons Forever, and a few highly original anatomical suggestions for the McCliverts.   
  
Hermione's analysis of her surrounding was broken off as Pettigrew shoved her hard in the small of the back with his silver right hand. "Kneel before the Dark Lord," he intoned. She complied, less out of a sense of respect, than a desire to not add the first bloodstains to the room.   
  
"So, Mudblood, the great Albus Dumbledore has failed in his protection at last. He could not stop the plans of Lord Voldemort. But don't flatter yourself too much, little mudblood. You have no value to us other than as a lure for Potter. Your friends will come rushing to your rescue as they always do, and I shall have him."   
  
"Perhaps my friends are smarter than you give them credit for, Lord. Even if they are so foolish as to not see this as a trap, the adults around them will know."   
  
"But how can they stay away," Voldemort replied softly, nodding to a Death Eater who produced parchment and a quill, "when they receive a heartbroken, pleading letter in your own hand?"   
  
"You want me to write my friends' death sentence? There is no way I would ever do that. Don't threaten me with the Cruciatus, either. You know as well as I do that prolonged use of the Cruciatus cause madness or death. My friends are not fool enough to rescue a corpse. I'm sure you don't want to use up your big guns this early in the game."   
  
Voldemort seemed angry that Hermione had brushed aside his threat. "They told me you were clever. Apparently, not clever enough to know not to antagonise your captor, especially when power is so unevenly distributed. The Cruciatus curse is not the only option. The medieval families that once held this castle left a great collection of torture instruments, both wizarding and muggle. Some of their uses are unknown but I'm sure we could improvise. Alternatively, I could put you under the Imperius curse, your writing style might suffer, but, according to our Severus's assessments," he added gesturing languidly at a familiar face under a hood, "I doubt your friends would tell the difference. So, will you write the letter, or do I order my Death Eaters to start spring cleaning?"   
  
Hermione's mother had always said that her daughter's habit of analysing situations and speaking her mind too fast would get her into trouble. Hermione had learned to hold her tongue in check since her run in with Lavender over her rabbit. Her mother would be horrified at what her daughter's Cassandra-esque penchant for awkward truths had gotten her into now. She knew what she should do, she ought to stand up to torture for her friends. Looking into the red, catlike slits that served as Voldemort's eyes she could not see the wisdom in such a plan. She fiddled absently with her seams and pricked herself on the safety pin still holding together the tear.   
  
"I will do as you ask." 


	7. Enigma, Caesar, and Vigenère, oh my!

  


**Chapter Six - Enigma, Caesar, and Vigenère, oh my!**

  
  
Tap, tap. Tap, tap.   
  
Harry woke up, groggily feeling for his glasses. His room at Grimmauld Place jumped into focus. He looked around for the source of the disturbance. A scruffy brown owl was tapping on the glass and clutching a letter. The handwriting on the envelope looked like… _Hermione's!_ "Ron, Ron, get up now!" Harry yelled. Downstairs, Sirius's mad mother awoke and added to the din. Ron finally began to sit up.   
  
"What do you want, Harry? It's early in the morn…" Ron groaned until he caught sight of the letter Harry was brandishing. "MUM, DAD, LUPIN, GET UP HERE! HERMIONE SENT US A LETTER!!!!!" Several loud cracks were heard and almost the entire household apparated into Ron's room. Loud pounding on the steps signaled Ginny's approach. Everyone began speaking at once. Mad-Eye Moody finally managed to be heard over the din.   
  
"POTTER!" he bellowed. "Don't open it. It's probably cursed. Give it here! I can see through the envelope." Harry reluctantly handed it over. Mad-Eye scanned it pensively. "Nothing. Still don't open it, though. Could be something else. We ought to toss it."   
  
Ron had had enough. He yelled, "Look, rogue Death Eater," ripped the letter away from Moody, tore it open, and tossed the contents to Harry as Mrs. Weasley shrieked, "RONALD!" Nothing happened. Moody muttered and stalked out. Harry eagerly read the letter with Ron over his shoulder.   
  
Dear Harry,   
  
I have been captured by You-Know-Who, as you have doubtlessly surmised. I hope you will _see the light_ and don't hesitate to attempt a rescue. I am completely desperate. I feel I can not hold out against the enemy, therefore a swift rescue is imperative. Harry, I hope you remember what happened to Mac Stibbon's parents after they were captured. After the horrors he endured, death was a boon. I do not know if I will have the chance to contact you again, please read my letter carefully, not in a _light_hearted manner. Don't hesitate to send Dumbledore. I cannot live here much longer. It's a torment to stay in a place like this, a trap.   
  
Come quickly,   
  
Hermione Granger   
  
"She's done it!" Ron yelled as he capered around the room. He ran his hands through his woefully mussed hair and babbled on. "We can go and save her now! I wonder how she snuck this letter out. Get your things, Harry! We can leave as soon as Dumbledore gets here. Bloody brilliant of her. Hah, told you I had better taste in girls than you, Harry. Think Cho would have pulled this off?" Ron realized what he had just said, turned the famous Weasley-red, and sat abruptly. Fred and George exchanged gleeful looks.   
  
Despite initial doubts, Harry began to hope. Ron was right. Hermione, brilliant as always, had snuck them a message. Maybe they'd have her back by tomorrow. No one else would die because of him. This rescue would be well planned. He started rummaging in his trunk for his invisibility cloak.   
  
"Harry, stop," Lupin said sadly. "How do we know this isn't a trap? Even is it isn't, how were you and Ron planning to rush in and save her from a house of Death Eaters? You don't even know where she is. This letter might have been faked."   
  
"That's ridiculous," Harry said flatly. He read from the letter, "Surmised, imperative, boon, lighthearted, and torment. Only Hermione writes like that."   
  
"Harry's right, Lupin," Ron chimed in. "I haven't a clue what most of those words mean. Lots of them are just pointlessly long. I doubt any of those Death Eaters know what they mean."   
  
"Boys, Hermione may have been forced to send this letter. Voldemort knows visions won't get you there so he sent you _this instead_. Hermione wouldn't want you to get yourselves killed over her. She's bait! Voldemort can't get to you here, so you're going to run out and give him a chance."   
  
"Lupin, Hermione _must_ have sent the letter without You-Know-Who knowing. She's been hiding it. See, it's ratty and torn, it even has some small holes in it. She even made sure not to tell us exactly where she is, in case she gets caught. That's the whole Mac Stibbons thing. She's giving us a clue. You'll see," Harry turned to Ron. "Who is Mac Stibbons anyway? I don't know him."   
  
"I don't know. There isn't anyone with that name in Gryffindor, our year, or the school, I think. I've never heard of him from the first war against You Know Who. It must be a muggle thing, Harry. Any famous muggles?"   
  
"I don't know anyone." Harry began to feel slightly desperate. They were so close. What sort of reference had Hermione used? She would have picked something that only they would recognize. Ron was right; it had to be a muggle reference. He scanned the letter again. The letter looked exactly like Hermione's writing, neat and even. Well, not quite even. It looked as though she had traced over some letters to make them stand out.   
  
"Harry," Lupin said, trying a new tact, "maybe she put that in so you'd know she was forced to write the letter. You have to wait. Moody's gone to get Dumbledore, he'll… what is it, Harry?"   
  
Hermione's handwriting was normally perfect. The letters were the same size, shape, and hue. But here, in two places where the writing was a tiny bit bolder, a very small message had been left. "Lupin," Harry breathed, "She did give us a message. Look! These two bits are written in bold. 'see the light' and the 'light' in lighthearted."   
  
"Harry that's not a very helpful message. It's probably a trick of the light…" Lupin was interrupted by Ron's happy yell.   
  
"I've got it! Lumos!" A bright flash of light briefly blazed. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. Ron snatched the letter up eagerly anyway. "Damnit! What the bloody hell does she want us to do?" He slammed the letter against the window in frustration. He began mimicking Hermione's voice, "See the _light, light_hearted. What sort of light does she bloody want?" He turned and saw Dumbledore had apparated with a faint pop, lost in his shouting. Dumbledore, Lupin, and Harry all stared at the window transfixed.   
  
Ron turned slowly. The letter was still pinned to the window by his accusing finger. The parchment was still old and ratty, the writing still neat, but now, the light of the rising sun shone through sixteen small pinpricks carefully poked under sixteen words. "Bloody brilliant," whispered Ron quietly.   
  
Dear Harry,   
  
I have been captured by You-Know-Who as you have doubtlessly surmised. I hope you will _see the light_ and **don't** hesitate to **attempt** a **rescue**. I am truly desperate. ** I** feel I **can** not **hold out** against the enemy, therefore a swift rescue is imperative. **Harry**, I hope you remember what happened to **Mac** Stibbon's parents after they were captured. After the horrors he endured, death was a **boon**. I do not know if I will have the chance to contact you again, please read my letter carefully, not in a _light_hearted manner. **Don't** hesitate to **send Dumbledore**. I cannot live here much longer. **It's** a torment to stay in **a** place like this, a **trap**.   
  
Come quickly,   
  
Hermione Granger   
  
Dumbledore conjured up parchment and a quill to write Hermione's message while Ron gaped. In a voice that, to his credit, shook only a little, he read, "Don't attempt rescue. I can hold out. Harry. Mac. Boon. Don't send Dumbledore. It's a trap."   
  
Harry recovered fairly quickly, "Lupin's right. It's a fake to confuse us. Look at the middle 'Harry Mac Boon' is gibberish. We have to help her. You can't suggest we leave her there!"   
  
Dumbledore looked not quite his calm self as he responded. "I don't suggest that, Harry. Hermione did."   
  
Lupin looked nothing short of floored. He reread the message again and again. "She even told us where she is," he said quietly. Everyone turned to him with looks of surprise. "Look, the part in the middle that doesn't make sense. 'Harry. Mac. Boon. Harry MacBoon. Hairy MacBoon.' It's the nickname for quintapeds. She's on the Isle of Drear." 


	8. You’re Not Paranoid if They Really Are...

  


**Chapter Seven – You're Not Paranoid.... if They Really Are Out to Get You**

  
  
By September the first, Hermione's disappearance, and subsequent letter, had not been reported in the Daily Prophet or any muggle newspapers. The Order felt publicizing the kidnapping of the famous Harry Potter's best friend was not likely to make anyone feel safer and might even put more pressure on Harry. Dumbledore also rejected Harry's idea of muggle papers running a 'face on the milk carton' campaign. Dumbledore pointed out that, as the Isle of Drear was Unplottable, muggles would not be able to help.   
  
It was a quieter ride on the Hogwarts Express than usual. Although no one knew Hermione was gone, many students were worried Voldemort and his Death Eaters might try to attack the Hogwarts Express. Aurors patrolled the aisles, and many of the students kept their wands handy. In fact, the Aurors had had to set up a small hospital wing on one of the cars because every time the train so much as jolted, at least one student cursed a friend instinctively. The trolley lady had locked herself in one of the compartments and refused to come out after she opened the compartment door of a group of jumpy Hufflepuffs.   
  
Harry and Ron remained in their compartment for the duration of the train ride. Harry stared dully out the window while Ron flipped halfheartedly through his Mad Muggle comic books. Suddenly screams broke out in the hall. The two boys snapped to attention, wands out. Ron moved behind the door quietly. Harry readied himself to look into the corridor, when their compartment door flew open, hitting Ron in the nose, and a tall Indian girl ran in. A long, dark braid hung down her back flaming merrily. Harry ducked as she turned, and her burning braid swung across the room.   
  
"Sorry to burst in like that," she said lightly as she put out her hair. She undid her braid and checked her hair for smoldering embers. "Honestly, I sneezed while walking down the corridor, and a rabid group of Gryffindor fifth years all tumbled out to curse me." She looked up and seemed to take in the occupants of the compartment. "So, Potter, Weasley," she said grinning as she threw back her hair, revealing a Slytherin badge, "where's Hermione?"   
  
Harry lunged, but Ron got there first with a quick, "Petrificus Totalus!" The girl fell with her smile still twisting her face. Ron kicked her quickly into the hall. The remainder of the ride was uneventful.   
  


  
  
The girl still occupied Harry's thoughts as he sat ignoring the Sorting Hat's melancholy predictions and warnings. He had first hated her for rubbing his face in Hermione's kidnapping, but now he began to wonder if it was that simple. Dumbledore had hushed up Hermione's disappearance, and he, Harry had told no one of it so how had the Slytherin known? She had to be a Death Eater spy at Hogwarts, Harry decided. Indeed, it would seem they were needed as the Slytherin table had been decimated. Harry allowed himself a moment of pleasure when he saw Theodore Nott and Malfoy's two flunkies, Crabbe and Goyle, had gone. Malfoy himself and Pansy Parkinson remained, unfortunately. Many fewer first years were Sorted into Slytherin as well.   
  
The room quieted when Dumbledore rose to his feet. He looked older and weaker than he ever had. Harry looked back at the Slytherin table. The Indian girl, it appeared, had unfortunately recovered, for she was talking animatedly with a dark haired Ravenclaw. Harry clenched his fists under the table. They finally fell silent when Dumbledore began to speak.   
  
"I am glad to see you are all here and looking well. I appreciate the courage you have all shown in coming here to Hogwarts. I want to assure you that you will be safe here. A contingent of Aurors has been assigned as residents in the castle. Additionally, I am sorry to report I must suspend all Hogsmeade visits for the foreseeable future. I also have an announcement for what remains of Slytherin House. Because so many of you have not elected to return to Hogwarts, your house no longer comprises a full class. Slytherin will be attending classes and following the same schedules as Ravenclaw House."   
  
The dark haired Ravenclaw girl was grinning at her Slytherin friend who looked angry. The rest of Ravenclaw House did not look nearly as pleased with Dumbledore's news. Luna Lovegood looked faintly surprised, Padma Patil appeared pensive, Cho Chang seemed furious, and farther down the table one red haired witch appeared amused. Dumbledore, however, had one bombshell left to drop.   
  
"There is a more weighty matter at hand than the Slytherin House schedules, of course. I wish to take a moment to remember one student who has not returned to Hogwarts but not," he shot a stern look at the Slytherin table before completing his thought, "of her own free will." The girl from the train's nostrils flared, and the Ravenclaw behind her put a hand on her shoulder to restrain her.   
  
Dumbledore continued, ignoring the murmurs from Slytherin. "There is an empty seat at the Gryffindor table today. Hermione Granger will not be attending Hogwarts this year because she was kidnapped by Lord Voldemort."   
  
The Great Hall drew in its breath. Harry realized Headmaster Dumbledore had not told the teachers in advance of his announcement. The shock of many of the students was nothing to the turmoil taking place at the teacher's table. Professor McGonagall turned to Professor Dumbledore, cutting off his remarks, as she appeared to be questioning him angrily while rubbing at her overly bright eyes. Professor Flitwick had fallen off his chair with a loud cry. Harry even thought he saw Professor Snape looking momentarily saddened, though not surprised. The expression faded from his face quickly however, and Harry could not be sure he hadn't imagined it.   
  
He was distracted from the teachers by the spectacle at his own table. Many of the students were turning towards him with expectant looks. He was almost glad when Neville drew attention away from him by breaking into a fit of sobbing. His head was pillowed in his arms while his shoulders shook helplessly. Harry looked up again when he heard laughter. At the Slytherin table Pansy Parkinson was pointing at Neville and laughing. The Slytherin from the train walked over and slapped her calmly. She returned to her seat and began speaking again to her Ravenclaw friend. She turned and shot Harry a murderous look.   
  
The greatest student reaction did not come from the Gryffindor or Slytherin table, however. Over at Ravenclaw, many students were unashamedly weeping. As Harry scanned the length of the Ravenclaw table he saw Cho Chang had a small tight smile on her lips.   
  
Dumbledore had to struggle to regain control of the hall. "Therefore, Pavarti Patil will be the Gryffindor prefect in Hermione's stead." She rose to her feet.   
  
"Headmaster, what happens if Hermione comes back?"   
  
Professor Dumbledore paused for a long moment. "We will deal with the matter if it comes up."   
  
The Slytherin girl rose as well and said deliberately, "I believe I misheard you. If, Professor Dumbledore? Don't you mean when Hermione returns? Surely efforts are being made to locate and help her, or has she been abandoned to her fate?"   
  
Harry could rein in his temper no longer. He shot to his feet, wand out. As he stood, he noticed a reddish blur to his left. Ron had beaten him to it. "Shut up! It's none of your business! Sit down or I swear I'll hex you so badly they'll send you up to the Hospital Wing in a matchbox!"   
  
The Slytherin girl's eyes widened in surprise and she whipped out her wand. The Ravenclaw behind her stood as well, face deadly serious.   
  
"That is quite enough!" Professor McGonagall had risen to her feet. "All four of you sit down at once. There will be no dueling on school grounds. I am particularly disappointed in you, Ms. Brenner."   
  
The Ravenclaw hung her head, and the two girls subsided. Harry sat as well. Ron sat only after food appeared on his plate. The remainder of the dinner passed in silence. Harry was glad when the word was given to leave for the common rooms.   
  


  
  
The common room was hardly the boisterous place it usually was. Not even the first years dared to make a sound. Gryffindors seemed wary of disturbing Harry or Ron. No doubt they remembered Harry's fifth year rages. A few first years were clustered around Ginny who was telling them who Hermione was. Two first year boys were trying to play Exploding Snap quietly in a corner. Finding this impossible, they retreated upstairs. Two girls by the drafty portrait hole were reading quietly. They still wore their outdoor cloaks and hoods. Dean Thomas walked over to Ginny to put his arm around her. Ron broke off staring moodily at the fire to glare at Dean who wisely hurried upstairs.   
  
The common room emptied fairly quickly after that. Harry was dismayed to find Ron's temper was far more volatile without Hermione's influence. He had snapped angrily at Pavarti when she had asked if Hermione had left any notes on the prefect patrol rotas.   
  
Soon Harry and Ron were sitting alone by the fire. The two girls by the door had put away their books and were headed to bed. They crossed in front of Harry and Ron as they headed to the boys' staircase. No sooner had Harry noticed this incongruity then the girls wheeled about and fired off a trio of spells in quick succession.   
  
"Expelliarmus! Silencio! Petrificus totalus!"   
  
The two boys fell stiff on the floor, mouths open in shock. The girls hurriedly cast off their heavy cloaks. Harry would have gasped had he not been restrained, for before him stood the Slytherin and Ravenclaw girls from dinner with their wands trained on his and Ron's hearts.   
  



	9. Polyjuice and Passwords

  


**Chapter Eight – Polyjuice and Passwords**

"Right then," said the Ravenclaw hurriedly, "_Accio wands._" Three wands flew to her. She laughed shakily and handed her accomplice's wand back. "You brought the strips, right?" 

"Of course, Cassie," responded the other girl. She rummaged in her knapsack and pulled out a small box. She withdrew two strips of what appeared to be white paper with a small orange square on the end. She passed one to the Ravenclaw and they hurried forward to touch a square to Harry and Ron's tongues. They retreated to the other side of the room and appeared to be comparing the strips to the box. 

"They're clear," declared the Slytherin. 

"Wait," called the Ravenclaw. "Shreya, there are too many variables. We never tested the effects of the silencing charm and the full body bind on pH." 

"Well, what do you suggest? Wait until we experiment and then come back and try again? We have to do it now." She turned to the boys. "If we unhex you and give you all of the wands, you have to listen to us. Do we have a deal?" There was no response. "Oh bloody hell!" she exclaimed. She walked over to Ron, put her wand to his throat, and removed the bind. "Nod if we have a deal." Ron must have nodded for the girl unhexed him completely and dropped the wands. 

Ron stood up, working the kinks out of his neck. He freed Harry, and then turned. "You haven't given us your wand, Ravenclaw," he spat. She dropped it and Harry moved to pick it up, but Ron had already pounced on it. He brandished his own wand at the girls, flushing with anger. "You two will pay for what you've done to Hermione!" 

"Wait," called the Ravenclaw, "we're Hermione's friends and we can prove it!" 

"You are?" 

"You are?" 

"We can?" 

"We know the three of you used Polyjuice Potion in your second year to interrogate Draco Malfoy. You brewed it in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom using the recipe in Moste Potente Potions. Because of the research Hermione did with us, we know that neither of you is under the influence of Polyjuice Potion." 

Harry lowered his wand. "Why did you think we might be using Polyjuice Potion?" 

"Well, let's see," cut in the Slytherin, "you attacked me on the train with no provocation and, when I asked a simple question, you tried to duel me in the Great Hall. What on earth could have suggested you were behaving like Death Eaters-in-training?" 

"Hold it," said Ron. How can you accuse _us_ of acting like Death Eaters when you break into our common room, knock us out, and poke at our tongues." 

"All right, lets not get bogged down in 'who acted like more of a Death Eater than whom.' That was a Polyjuice tester; we weren't poking your tongues for the heck of it. We invented them with Hermione," the Ravenclaw finished proudly then glanced at Ron with worry. 

"Look," she said bluntly, "I went to muggle grammar school. I don't know if you did or how much chemistry you know." 

Ron looked blank, but Harry spoke up, "I went to muggle grammar school. We did some science." 

"Oh good, do you know what pH is?" she continued. 

"Not really," he admitted. 

"Acids and bases ring any bells?" the Slytherin asked. 

"Yeah. Acids are things that burn, like lemon juice. Soap's a base, I think." 

"That's right," the Ravenclaw continued, "The pH strips test if a substance is an acid or a base. An acid turns it red and a base turns it blue. Hermione told us about how badly the Polyjuice burns on the way down. We mixed up a small test batch and found it was a..." 

"Acid!" Ron said triumphantly. 

"No, a base. Anyway, we found that Polyjuice causes the drinker's mouth to tend toward the basic. We made the pH strips more sensitive, and we had our test." 

"So," said the Slytherin, "now that we have the suspicions and threats out of the way, let's move on to the introductions. We know your names, of course. I am Shreya Sahni of Slytherin, and my Ravenclaw friend is Cassandra Ada Brenner who goes by Cassie or Cass as she sees fit. It is now close to midnight and we don't have time for chitchat. Meet us outside the Ravenclaw Common room after dinner tomorrow and we'll talk." 

"Why Ravenclaw?" Ron asked suspiciously. 

"Well," replied Cassie, "given the likely reaction of your dorm mates to a Slytherin in your midst, Gryffindor is out. Ditto Slytherin. I don't think either of you knows the pass into Hufflepuff, so Ravenclaw is the spot." 

"We could sneak into Hufflepuff the same way you snuck into Gryffindor," retorted Harry pointedly. 

"There's a problem with that plan, too," replied Shreya. "It is true that Hufflepuffs are a foolishly trusting as Gryffindors, so we wouldn't have trouble getting a first year to tell us the password. You two are hardly inconspicuous, however. We'll meet in Ravenclaw. Meet us at the statue of Uric the Oddball and we'll take you to our common room." 

"All right," said Ron reluctantly. "Here are your wands back." He held them out like a two-pronged olive branch. Cassandra took hers back, but Shreya pulled another wand out of a pocket. 

"I'm not dumb enough to hand over my real wand. Give that a wave; it turns into a dead parrot." 

"A dead parrot?" Ron repeated, looking liable to snap the pseudo-wand and follow it up with the Slytherin's arm. 

"Not just any dead parrot," she clarified, looking smug, "a Norwegian Blue. They have lovely plumage, I'm told. I bought it at _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes_. We'll see you at the Ravenclaw common room tomorrow." 

"What's the password?" asked Harry. 

The two girls exchanged a look. "It's too complicated," Cassie said reluctantly. "We'll see you tomorrow." With that, the girls picked up their cloaks and walked out, leaving Harry with a baffled Ron. 

"Well," Ron spluttered, "that's the strangest password I've ever heard in my life." 


End file.
